


No Drunken Regrets

by Demenscous



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, Inarizaki, Mentions of Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Suppressed Feelings, Swearing, Underage Drinking, and not the other characters, fluff towards the end, flustered kita, just want to clarify that this is mainly about kita, minor hurt/comfort, not completely nsfw but nearly verging on it, tokyo trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:48:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26603233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demenscous/pseuds/Demenscous
Summary: After a long day of exploring Tokyo on a club-funded trip, you decide to make your night a little more interesting in the company of Suna and the twins--only for Kita to put it to an end.
Relationships: Kita Shinsuke/Reader
Comments: 35
Kudos: 217





	1. Chapter I

**Author's Note:**

> For context purposes: you are a second year student at Inarizaki, as well as the manager for the boy's volleyball team.

It was late when you got the text from Atsumu.

But you were already awake.

Despite the fact that the boys’ volleyball team, and yourself, had endured a day filled with new sights and experiences in the heart of Tokyo, you found yourself still sitting in bed, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone in the hotel room that you were able to snag for yourself. After all, the coach would never allow one of the boys to room with you and it's not like there were any other female managers to accompany you.

It was nearly eleven at night when you got the notification on your phone. Fresh out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around your body, you read what Atsumu had sent.

And you smiled.

It hadn’t taken long for you to throw on an old sleep shirt that covered the fitted cloth shorts beneath and sneak down the hall to where Atsumu and Suna were rooming together; and based off of Atsumu’s text, Osamu would be there as well. When you rapped gently on the hotel door you heard someone call from within.

“’S open!” The voice--Atsumu--said, muffled by the separating piece of wood. And when you turned the knob, the door was, indeed, unlocked. Quiet laughter and conversation flitted past your ears as you closed the door behind you, turning to the welcoming site of the boys all lounging around, idly talking amongst themselves.

“There she is,” Atsumu crooned contentedly. Using a hand to motion around the room, he continued, “So glad you could join us.”

You shook your head, grinning as you took a seat on one of the beds next to Osamu who greeted you with a small smile and a “Hey, y/n.” Suna inclined his head toward you before mumbling something about you taking your sweet time. You caught the smartass remark and chucked a pillow at him, though he stopped it with ease and bared a nasty smirk.

The boys and you laughed softly while Atsumu rose from his seat on the other bed to shuffle through one of his suitcases, pulling out a large bag of alcohol samplers and dangling it in the air, “Let’s get fuckin’ wasted, yeah?”

You all exchanged amused grins, even Suna, who’s grin was more of just an extended version of his rare smirk but still a grin nonetheless. Atsumu opened the baggy, the sound of the plastic reverberating through the room, and tossed the first plastic bottle his fingers touched to each of you until you all held up a mini sampler in salute and downed the bottle to its dregs. By now, you knew how you liked to drink your liquor: let it fall to the back of your throat and slide down in a nice, warm tingle--savor the aftertaste when it isn’t as potent.

This little routine went on again, and again, and again until you found yourself crawling into Suna’s lap, his strong arms slithering around your waist, your head leaning back against his shoulder, his nose nuzzling the crook of your neck as you giggled like a goddamn school girl. Fuck, you probably drank too much but, _God_ , this felt so nice. Your mind addled with liquor, the strong scent of Suna’s clothing, the twins bickering like idiots--you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You felt Suna rest his chin on your shoulder as he spoke, “I’m gonna have such a fuckin' hangover tomorrow…” You simply hummed in agreeance as you exhaled deeply, enjoying how drunk Suna was much more affectionate than when he’s dry sober. Although you had never thought about Suna in a romantic way, you did care for him--he was one of the boys you had to look out for after all. But you had to admit to yourself, it did feel nice to be held so tightly by someone, and you didn’t fail to notice how his hands never wandered, they only stayed wrapped around your torso in a close embrace. 

This camaraderie continued on for some time longer as drunken laughter snaked through the room, terrible stories and jokes told in dramatized manners, and of course, constant requests to repeat what someone said because no one could understand a damn thing.

Osamu had been in the middle of telling one of his most embarrassing memories on a dare when two sharp knocks emanated from outside of their hotel room door. All conversation stuttered to a halt.

“Should we…should we answer that?” Atsumu attempted to whisper, though it was anything but.

Osamu looked expectantly around at you and the others; you felt Suna shrug behind you. The knocks came again, sharper than before if that was even possible. 

“I’m not fuckin’ gettin’ it…” Atsumu hissed to no one in particular. Osamu sighed greatly before dragging his hazed body up from the floor where he had taken residence and to the door. He peered through the peephole for just a moment before whirling around hysterically, the sudden movement causing him to stumble a bit and throw an arm out to steady himself against the wall.

“It’s Kita.” Osamu’s eyes had widened in shock as he looked to each of you for an answer on what to do, but before anyone could utter a single word, Kita spoke from behind the door.

“Open the door or I’m makin’ y'all run laps around the hotel in the morning.”

“ _Shit_ ,” Atsumu groaned at the same time that Suna hissed, “ _F_ _uck_.”

While you weren’t sure if Kita had the authority to make _you_ run laps, you hurriedly gestured to Osamu to open the damn door before Kita made you all regret being born.

And as soon as Osamu had creaked the door open just an inch, Kita had already pulled it the rest of the way to grant him passage as he stormed through the threshold.

“Do you have _any_ idea what--” But Kita’s words were cut short as his steps faltered and his eyes locked with yours. “What's this?” Coming from Kita, no question was ever a question to begin with, but a demand. His voice was colder than ice as his gaze traveled from your face to where Suna’s arms had still remained wrapped around you. “What,” he repeated, “is this.”

You could just see the way the captain’s words dripped with venom, could almost imagine it falling from his tongue, but you weren’t thinking straight. You weren’t fucking thinking straight as you choked on a laugh that bubbled up from your throat, Suna’s arms unwinding from around you, leaving your torso colder than you expected. You didn’t see the uneasy glances the boys exchanged among each other in Kita’s roiling presence. The captain was pissed, you could tell, but about what? That you were drinking? It wasn’t his business. That you were sitting in the lap of Suna? That wasn’t his business, either.

You didn’t even register that Kita had moved before he was already in front of you, pulling you up by your hands. You groaned, throwing your head back before bringing it forward again, only to tilt it back once more to look at Kita through half-lidded eyes.

“Hello, captain,” you practically purred, a mocking smile tugging at your lips.

“Let’s go, y/n,” was the only response you were granted as he gently grabbed your wrist and turned to the door, obviously expecting for you to follow. And your eyes did, your head did, but your feet sure fucking didn’t. One second your vision was reeling, falling, and the next Kita had you supported with two firm hands on your waist, nearly holding up your entire body weight. 

You looked up at him, your head tilting lazily, “Ever the gentleman,” you whispered, a slight slur to your words. A muscle jumped in his jaw, but his attention was no longer on you anymore.

“I’ll deal with the rest of you later.” Those were his final, familiarly indifferent words to the boys before he wrapped one arm behind your shoulders and another at the back of your thighs. 

All you remember is tucking your head beneath Kita’s chin and mumbling some incoherent words before Kita was nudging you awake, gently coaxing your name. When you came to, you realized that he was still holding you, but now you were facing the door to your hotel room, no longer in Atsumu and Suna’s own room anymore.

“…key.” That was all you managed to hear from Kita’s words but it was enough to know what he was asking. Slowly you reached beneath the hemline of your shirt, earning a confused noise from Kita who tried to repeat his question, under the impression that you must have heard him wrong. But a moment later, after some fishing around in the sports bra that you had on, you pulled out the key card and held it up for Kita who took it after a second's hesitation.

The card was warm to the touch in his hands and he couldn’t help the light dusting of pink that appeared on his face. He thanked the gods above that you didn’t see his expression. After he inserted the key and opened the door to your room, closing it softly behind him, he carried you to your bed, settling you down with a reverence you hadn’t known the captain to contain. The thought made you smile into the pillow that your face had come in contact with.

“Somethin’ funny?” The malice in his voice was gone, replaced by a tone you couldn’t quite put your finger on, only aware that whatever it was mirrored his gentle handling of earlier.

You only mumbled quietly in response.

“Here, sit up.”

With a great inhale of breath, you pushed yourself up in the soft bed and found Kita sitting at the chair beside you, holding out a glass of water. _Probably because you need to fucking sober up_ , you thought inwardly, slowly drinking the glass until it was completely empty and Kita was taking it back from your hands before you dropped it in your state of mind. “Thanks,” you murmured, eyes not quite meeting his.

Kita only nodded his head once before speaking again, “What were you doin' gettin' drunk with them, y/n?”

Of course, no time would be wasted with the precious captain who had an agenda to settle tonight.

You chuckled bitterly, already expecting a lecture that you know you didn’t want to hear. “I’ll give you one guess,” you mused, fully expecting that your reasons for drinking with the twins and Suna were quite clear: you only just wanted to get drunk and that was that.

“You were lookin' for trouble?” Kita’s voice was deadpan as he spoke.

“No,” you half-heartedly spat, not having the energy to even bother arguing, “I just wanted to get drunk. That’s it. That’s fucking it.”

Kita gave a considering nod, letting the silence purposely stretch on before breaking it, “Do ya' know how badly that could've gone?” There was no anger in his voice, no lilt, no tone, and it scared you even more than when he had been speaking to the others earlier. 

It scared you, but you didn’t dare show it as you turned your head to face him, offense lining your features, “What the hell are you talking about?” You could feel your buzz slowly diminish but not enough to be able to walk without stumbling just a bit.

“I’m talkin' about the fact that you were alone in a room with three other young men, all taller than you, all stronger than you. Add a pretty girl half their size and throw in some alcohol and something’s bound to happen, y/n.”

Your stomach lurched at what Kita was implying, the alcohol in your system clouding your mind, but you steeled yourself enough to articulate a response, “Are you saying they would have _raped me_ , Kita?” No more was the slur in your voice.

“ _No_ ,” he quickly amended, running a hand down his mouth in a rare sign of frustration, “I’m sayin' that somethin’ that you may regret later could’ve happened, whatever that might be.”

You let your head fall back against the headboard, biting the inside of your cheek gently before letting it go, “Nothing happened.” But then you remembered the look on Kita’s face when he found you wrapped in Suna’s embrace, “I was just sitting in Suna’s lap. Like I said, that’s _it_.” Your mind couldn’t help but wonder as to why Kita had looked at you the way he did. Maybe it was just the shock of the whole situation… 

“You should take a shower, it’ll help ya’ sober up.”

You huffed a laugh, running a hand through your hair, “I can barely walk, so unless you volunteer on helping me, I think I might have to pass.” To your surprise, there was no response from Kita’s end. You lifted your head to look at the captain once more--only to find Kita blushing a gentle shade of pink, a hand covering his mouth and chin while his eyes studied the floor as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Oh.

_Oh._

Flustered Kita was something new to you entirely. Never once in your career as Inarizaki’s manager had you ever seen Kita blush. In fact, you didn’t even think he was capable of it. And, yet, here he was, reddening at the prospect of your joking offer to help you bathe.

Just how far could you take this?

“Kita.”

The captain turned his attention back to you, hand removing from his face as his jaw clenched tightly. He said nothing.

You tilted your head forward, still keeping his gaze as you brought your knees up to rest your forearms on, “Would you like to?”

Kita leaned his head back against the chair cushion and you watched him with such an intensity it was beginning to make blood run to other places than his face. The grey sweatpants that he was wearing did nothing to hide the evidence either and he saw your expression the moment your eyes travelled down, down, down. He should get up. He should get out of your room right now before anything else happens. You’re not sober, you’re not in the proper mindset, this isn’t _you_ …is it? 

Before he could even move a single limb, you were already slipping off the bed, your shirt revealing those short fucking shorts and he couldn’t catch the soft exhale of breath that escaped his lips. And then you were walking towards him, keeping his eyes locked with yours as if this was the only thing that mattered, as you slid onto his lap to straddle him and it took every fiber of his being not to react.

Looking at Kita now, sitting on his obvious hard-on, you knew this was going to be a bit harder than you expected. He didn’t dare look away from your eyes as you draped your arms around his neck, leaning in to speak softly in his ear while your chest pressed flush against his. A shaky breath from him and you were getting somewhere. “Haven’t you ever wondered what I feel like, Kita?”

“What are you doing…” he breathed, so quietly you almost didn’t catch it.

“Haven’t you ever wondered what I _taste_ like?” You were pressing kisses behind his ear now, his neck, gentle laughter in your voice. One quick glance back at his white-knuckled grip on the armrests of the chair and you knew he was holding back. You could just _feel_ the heat radiating from his body as you continued on, “Have you ever thought about me, at night, Kita,” you pressed a kiss to his jaw, grinding your hips against his so slowly, “when you touch yourself.” Your words come out sounding breathless and you can barely handle the soft moan that slips from his throat.

“When you fuck your hand,” your fingers slide into his hair, grasping at what they can as you continue your torturous kisses, “do you ever imagine it’s mine?”

He’s panting now, his chest rising and falling in uneven patterns as you kiss everywhere but his lips, as you grind your hips harder into his and earn another gentle moan that drives you insane. You have no idea why the fuck you’re doing this or where this even came from, but you don’t want to stop, not yet.

When you pull away to look at him, it’s nearly your undoing. A harsh blush has already spread across his face and ears, lips parted with every pant, eyes clouded with lust, lazily meeting your own. You always thought that Kita was attractive, a pretty face with an interesting personality, but this--this was like a fucking dream.

You place a hand beneath his chin, fingers wrapping around the sides of his jaw as you bring your face closer, “Haven’t you ever wondered what I sound like, _captain_ , when I’m moaning your name?”

At the usage of his title, it’s a damn fucking miracle he didn’t just take you right then and there, hell, he hadn’t even lain a single finger on you but he couldn’t help the way his hips jerked up to meet yours when you called him that. You huffed one of those laughs that he couldn’t seem to get enough of before leaning down in his ear once more, Kita patiently waiting for the next tease.

You could almost feel the way he was anticipating your words as you, instead, opted to kiss his cheek with a loving gentleness. He nearly groaned from your purposeful attempts at adding to the suspension, but then you were right next to his ear, fingers pulling his hair, allowing you to tilt his head back. You made a show of hitching your breath before moaning his name onto his skin as if he truly was fucking you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, I would just like to say that I do NOT condone underage drinking whatsoever but it does make for a good plot if you ask me...Besides that, this little scenario came to me last night and do I have to say that I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. This will most likely be my last story for today since this is the last of what I needed to transfer over to this account
> 
> Other Socials  
> Tumblr: demxnscous


	2. Chapter II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would just like to dedicate this chapter to the two (three? I'm not sure) people who wanted a part two of this story so here ya go !  
> (Also I would just like to say that this will be the last chapter that I do for this work)

The soft caress of feather down against your skin was the first sensation that your mind became aware of when you woke.

The next was the piercing call of your alarm.

Groaning into the plush pillow, you blindly reached for your phone, feeling around the bedside table until your fingers touched cool metal and the heinous noise gave way to silence.

A headache was beginning to bloom behind your temples now--a rude reminder of the previous night’s events. You had half a mind to suffocate yourself in the hotel blankets at the mortifying thought.

God, how in the hell were you supposed to face Kita today after what occurred between the two of you?

You remembered how he brought you back to your room, placed you in bed. How he offered a cup of water before pressing you for explanations. And then he had made a comment to which you had responded…you don’t even remember what you said, but it was difficult to forget how you found yourself straddling him after that, kissing him, whispering such filthy things in his ear, moaning his name--

What the fuck have you done. 

You pressed the pillow tighter around your head. Maybe if you held it there long enough you could eventually fall unconscious by cutting off your own life’s breath.

But you didn’t quite have that luxury.

Dragging your exhausted limbs from the comfort of the bed, you managed to shower, something you had obviously failed to accomplish last night, finishing in an adequate amount of time. Though, as you slipped into your clothing for the day ahead once you had dried off, the rest of your recollections surfaced, along with a punctuating throb at a temple.

Rubbing a palm to your forehead, you recalled how you had pulled away from Kita after your rousing little display, giggling, laughing, drunk on not just the alcohol--but him. You had ran your fingers through the soft strands of his silver and black-tipped hair before patting his blood-rushed cheek as if he were a child, cooing on about how adorable he looked in that state. Then, as if nothing had happened, you slinked from his lap, crawled back in bed, and mumbled a simple goodnight.

You _could_ just fake being sick, tell the coach you aren’t feeling well; mention you’re on your period, even though you weren’t, and they’d all go scrambling to leave you alone. But it wasn’t as if you could avoid the captain forever, you were their team manager after all and last time you checked, _managing_ them had been written in clear scrawl under the job description.

And it wasn’t as if you could sweep those debauched memories under a rug, pretend as if they didn’t exist, pretend that last night never happened. Or, you could, but in hindsight pretending to have blacked out and conveniently forgotten your actions would not, exactly, be the best idea either.

Besides, Kita always knew when someone was lying right through their teeth.

※※※

He couldn’t stop thinking about you.

The image of you pressed against him, the feeling of your lips dancing over his skin, the way your breath tickled against his neck when you spoke those fucking words.

It was seared into his goddamn mind.

He knew you had been drunk last night, to what extent, he could only guess. He knew that you hadn’t been thinking straight, that your reasons and logic muddled itself with the alcohol. And he also knew that no matter how badly his body had ached for more, he would have pulled you away before anything progressed further; not because he had believed the thought of sleeping with you to be disgraceful, but because your inebriation was something he had refused to simply overlook.

Afterwards, when he had walked back to his room after you’d settled yourself in bed, muttering a nearly incoherent “goodnight”, he couldn’t help the way his hands traced where your kisses had burned his skin. Couldn’t help when his thoughts wandered and the tightness in his pants was growing more uncomfortable by the second. Couldn’t help that when he stepped into the shower for the second time that night, shrouded by the steaming mist and pelting water, your words had held more truth than you realized. And when all of that built up tension had finally come to a tipping point, your name falling from his lips, it had taken a great effort to silence his groans to keep from waking his roommate. 

As he had braced a hand against the shower wall, gasping for breath, there was no stopping the dreadful wave of shame that poured over him like a shock of icy water.

But now it was the next day, morning come to wash away last night’s immodesties. What a pity, though, that your touches remained tainting his skin.

※※※

For the remainder of the day, your interactions with Kita had been suspiciously limited. Much so, that others began to notice your uncharacteristic silence, the way your hands were always shoved in your jacket pockets, your jaw seemingly clenched for no reason. How, when the need to communicate with Kita was deemed inevitable, an exchange of a single sentence or less was all that concurred. Soon enough, your strange behaviors began to warrant furtive glances among the rest of the boys.

You noticed, yet never said a word.

But now, touring a historic museum with the team, you had allowed yourself to fall behind the others, basking in the silence and separation. Though, it was quickly interrupted when an amused voice was suddenly at your side.

“You alright?” It was Atsumu, come to draw you from your dissociations. His words, despite being laced with a tinge of mock, like most things that came out of his mouth, were genuine.

“I’m fine.” It truly sounded as if you were trying to convince yourself rather than him.

Atsumu hummed, not quite believing it, “Somethin’ happen last night with Kita?” At the twin’s words, your stomach churned and you felt the strong urge to simply hunch over on the marble ground and never get back up.

Your hands tightened in their pockets, jaw back to being painfully clenched, “What?”

Atsumu noticed the odd shift in the way you carried yourself now, only raising a brow before continuing, “I don’t know, just figured that whatever’s wrong with ya' has somethin’ to do with him, too. He’s been actin’ weird all morning--like you.”

As much as you trusted Atsumu, though you knew _that_ in itself was a terrible idea, and as much as you wanted to get this horrible weight off of your chest, you kept your mouth shut. Keeping your attention on the floor in front of you, you simply said, “No,” earning a clicking of the tongue from Atsumu and a quiet “Liar”.

The pair of you walked in silence behind the team for the rest of the tour. At one point, Kita had caught your gaze, his golden eyes softening in such a minute way you barely noticed it. But, just as quickly, you focused your attention elsewhere. At some point or another, you would have to address the elephant in the room, but not now--not in the middle of a museum surrounded by the rest of your teammates who you knew would loiter around just to blatantly eavesdrop.

Kita didn’t fail to notice how you were isolating yourself, avoiding him all throughout the day. He didn’t blame you, he understood, which was why he never attempted to try and get you alone to talk things over. He knew that the last thing he wanted was for you to feel cornered, trapped, by him. So, he waited. And waited. And waited until the day’s excursions were over and everyone was back at the hotel to do what they wished, so long as they stayed on the hotel property.

You had been curled up in an armchair, lounging by the fireplace in the cozy lobby. On the couch next to you, Suna was scrolling through his phone, tapping every now and then. With your honed focus on the licking flames in front of you, it was no surprise that you hadn’t realized someone saying your name. And it wasn’t until that someone tapped you on the shoulder that you jolted in your seat, head whipping around to the origin of the touch.

Those familiar golden eyes met yours and you felt your lips part, ready to fib an excuse, but halted, as if the words had lodged in your throat. You watched his chest heave as he inhaled deeply before offering a gentle smile.

“Coach wants to talk with you about schedulin’ for next week.” Kita tried his best to maintain a light, amiable tone as to not scare you off like a frightened deer.

You closed your mouth, only nodding before lowering your legs to the ground and rising to walk beside him; both of you failing to notice Suna’s eyes narrow before returning back to the phone in his hands.

It had been a white lie on Kita’s behalf, a harmless one that wouldn't have raised too much suspicion from Suna. The captain figured that keeping this between the two of you as much as possible might help to ease your frazzled nerves. He’d been right, of course, but that didn’t keep you from fiddling incessantly with anything that came in contact with your fingers as you walked together, Kita leading you to a more secluded sitting area at the other side of the lobby.

You huffed a laugh, but this time it was more to cover your anxiety as you fully realized the situation in which you had unknowingly walked into, “Coach didn’t want to talk to me, did he?”

Kita lowered himself into a chair, “No, but I do.”

You mirrored his movements, sitting in the other chair beside his, a small three-legged table holding a lamp between the two of you. Kita would be lying to himself if he claimed he didn’t notice the way the dim lighting of the room added to your luring beauty.

“Okay,” was all you could manage as he faced you, body and all to show that his undivided attention was on this conversation and this conversation only.

“Last night...” he started, already unsure of his words, as if he hadn’t rehearsed this in his head on repeat every moment of the day up until now, “...you don’t have to say anythin’ if you’d rather not, but I think we should at least address it.” He could tell you weren’t exactly comfortable with the way your arms had folded defensively across your chest and he wondered if he had chosen the wrong words for this.

You knew that saying nothing would only be salt in the wound, so you met his gaze with as much courage as you could muster before speaking, “I shouldn’t have done it--I’m sorry, I was out of it, it was a mistake.” You were rambling, your words coming out in short bursts of trepidation.

 _It was a mistake_.

The bare statement clawed at Kita’s skin, laughing cruelly as any hope he had for exploring whatever _this_ could become between him and you shattered instantaneously.

He had never openly admitted it before, but Kita had always been fond of you; the way you could take and dish out the team’s jokes, the way you smiled or laughed and no one could help but to be drawn in, the way you were able to wrangle in the twins with a single vicious glare. Though, he hadn’t realized until last night, when he saw you nestled in Suna’s lap, that his fondness for you had been something more--much more. And your adding of fuel to the marring fire only fed that drive.

Even then, how could he have been foolish enough to mistake your drunken advances for genuine interest?

At his silence, you searched his face frantically, trying to glean any ounce of expression that would betray his stilled features. Was he relieved? Disappointed, angry, upset? You couldn’t tell. You hated that you couldn’t tell.

But when he broke the pocket of hush that overcame your conversation, his voice was back to its neutral indifference, “There’s no need to apologize, y/n, let’s just keep this to ourselves.”

When had his words become so calculated towards you? 

It hit you, then, that over the course of time you’d gotten to know Kita, the way he spoke to you had been different. It was a subtle change, really, nearly imperceptible to anyone who didn’t know the captain. And now that it was gone, now that you no longer heard it, it was blatantly obvious. 

Again, you nodded your head, “Okay.” It was one word, one single word that seemed as if it had taken every inch of your willpower to articulate.

Kita was getting up now, rising from his seat, he figured you’d rather go back to Suna, burrow in the armchair by the fireplace in a blanket of quiet as you had been before he’d interrupted.

You wanted to say something--anything, really. Whatever relationship you had managed to forge with Kita seemed as if it was fraying at the edges now. It hurt. But you let him walk you back to the lobby, shoulder to shoulder, your bodies only grazing once before Kita had pulled his arm in a bit closer.

Yeah, it fucking hurt.

The rest of the trip hadn’t been any better.

When it came to talking with Kita after that particular conversation, every letter, every word felt like a business transaction; formal, forced, polite. And as much as it irked you to no end, you did nothing, because Kita seemed content enough, so why bother?

This continued past the Tokyo trip, bleeding into regular, everyday interactions at school, at practice, at games. This had become your new norm. And you loathed it to no end.

Weeks had now passed and a practice game had been scheduled for today after school with a neighboring team. And as you walked into the gym, already grabbing the empty water bottles waiting to be filled, you didn’t notice the way Kita’s stare lingered on you for a moment too long. You didn’t notice the way that the twins exchanged a knowing look.

Once the opposing team had arrived, the game had been going as you had expected: Inarizaki had taken the first set and was now winning twelve to seven, everyone seemed to be doing well. That is, until a whistle was blown, and your attention that had been previously focused on the towel in your hands was now on Kita. 

Kita. 

Kita, who was cradling his hand, face wincing in pain.

Kita, who was headed directly towards you.

Kita, who you hadn’t had a normal conversation with since before that consequential night.

You were already meeting him halfway.

Your hand was reaching up to his without a second thought, gingerly taking his own injured hand in yours, inspecting it.

“It’s not broken, but you definitely sprained it.” Your focus was solely on his finger, but his...his was on you.

Although he’d never forgotten the idea of what your touch had felt like, this was almost better than he last remembered.

“Let’s go get you some ice.” And with that, he trailed behind you, right on your heels as you both headed for the athletics room. You pushed the door open once you’d reached it, gesturing with your head for him to go ahead of you--he complied--and you shut the door quietly, as if any sudden sound would bring this chance crumbling to your feet.

He sat himself on a stool, inspecting his finger, seeing how far he was able to move it before stopping with a sharp inhale.

You had made an ice pack within seconds, the motions coming quickly with muscle memory, “Easy,” your voice was soft as you placed the pack on his finger, “you’ll only make it worse.”

A hint of a smile curled his lips, “Sorry 'bout that.”

“Don’t be.” You let him take the ice pack with his other hand, deciding to pull up a chair in front of him. 

Now was your chance, “Things are... _different_ between us…”

He looked up; you noticed a droplet of sweat slide down at his temple from where it had accumulated during the game.

“And, honestly...I don’t like it.”

Kita exhaled, eyes back on his finger, “I don’t either. I should have said something earlier.”

You found yourself chuckling dryly, “No-- _I_ should have. It was my fault in the first place.”

“Actually, I believe it was the alcohol that either the twins or Suna had supplied, but my bet’s on Atsumu.”

Your laugh was genuine this time, and you met his golden eyes, “You’d be correct, then.”

“Ah,” he sighed, as if this was the greatest realization, “Why am I not surprised?”

And just like that, the pieces had all fallen together once again. The rope was mending, the guilt was unlatching its claws. 

You were smiling now, a small grin, as you stood from your chair to grab the supplies you would need for a splint. You placed the medical tape and popsicle stick on a table beside his stool before holding out an open hand to Kita, “Here, let me see it.”

He removed the ice pack, letting his cold hand fall into yours. Any surprise you had for the difference in hand sizes between his and yours was quickly muffled; at this proximity, it would be easy for Kita to read you like a book. He watched your fingers work away at the splint, the concentrated look you wore, the way your brow furrowed just a tad, and your hair… 

A strand of it had fallen in your face.

He didn’t know what he was thinking when he took his other, uninjured hand and tucked the lone strand back behind your ear. 

You halted your ministrations and he prepared for the absolute worst.

But when you looked up from his finger, to his chest, and then to his eye level, you hadn’t realized just how close you’d been. Your faces were inches apart. Your heart was hammering through your chest and you prayed he couldn’t hear it.

“Kita…”

You just had to say his name, didn’t you?

He waited a moment, giving you enough time to pull away if you didn’t want this. But when you didn’t, when you remained right there, he couldn’t hold back.

Kita lifted his un-splinted hand to cup your cheek and jaw, bringing you closer to his face as he kissed you with an urgency that was stealing your breath. His lips were soft against yours, warm, pliable, as he moved them with a tenderness that had you arching into him. Kita’s other hand came to your waist, the non-injured fingers pulling you closer. A dull ache had traveled through his hand at the movement, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle, not when you were kissing him, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck and he was instantly reminded of when this last happened. Except this time, you were sober, and you still wanted him.

He pulled away slowly, meaningfully, before resting his forehead against yours, “Y/n…”

The way he whispered your name, gazes meeting with such little distance between them, made something in your chest squeeze. His thumb was brushing over your waist now, as if he couldn’t quite believe that you were here, in _his_ hands.

Your own hand found his face, curling around one of his cheeks and the way he leaned into your touch, eyes closing in absolute bliss. This--this was what you wanted. Not some drunken night filled with regrets, not some mistake that could never be erased. You wanted this.

You wanted him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, I'm gonna be honest, even as I was writing the first chapter to this story I never exactly intended for any major smut to occur, I just feel like when it comes to that kind of stuff, Kita would take things slow, maybe be unsure of himself (bc I mean he IS only like 17/18), idk that's just my opinion but I felt like this chapter just fit his personality more than if I were to have just DIVED into the nsfw. And actually speaking of smut, even though I do enjoy it when its well written by someone else, I've never been one to actually write it. I usually have a limit for how far I go, but like sexual tension, the building up, the pining, yeah.. thats my thing 😂 anyways, I hope you enjoyed it ! and remember to get your assignments turned in and drink enough water


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